Wiol Pomnuria Ilian: For My Happiness
by Fauning
Summary: Angela had once spoken of different roads in Eragon's fate. Branched off from Eragon's time in Ellesmera and then on. Eragon continues his training, despite the multitude of battles that he is called into. One's road of fate is a fluttering ribbon in a sea of decisions, and with each swing of his sword, Eragon's ribbon twists further.
1. Arrival

**I'm starting a thing and this is chapter one of said thing. Wow thing! Thing is happening. It is beginning. I am doing the thing.**

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"_Jierda!" The shout ripped itself from his throat, and while his opponent fell with a shriek of pain Eragon whirled around to slice down another foe, his limbs heavy with weariness. He felt as if he had been fighting for hours, each swing of his sword growing more and more strained. He spotted Arya stepping over the motionless forms of fallen soldiers nearby, her sword dripping with dark red blood as she paused, surveying the damage. She looked solemn, and the former farmboy realized that the first wave of soldiers was very much finished. _

_Arya's shoulders dropped as she continued to gaze at the carnage, her eyes scanning the bodies that seemed to litter the blood soaked ground like grass. Eragon felt himself sigh as he plunged his sword into the ground, putting weight on the blade as he breathed out, trying to shake the dread from his chest. Why were he and Arya the only ones here? This question worried him and seemed to whirl around in his head, and he shook for reasons unknown to him._

_The dread in his stomach grew, and the shaking continued until the blue rider was trembling. Eragon's vision grew mottled for a moment and he leaned forward, the ground beneath his feet spinning. He felt himself stumble, and his sword ripped itself from the earth as he fell. Violent coughs wracked his lean frame, leaving him breathless. Choking on air, Eragon desperately tried to comprehend what danger he was facing, and who or what may be causing it. _

_He faintly saw Arya look up wildly at him, her eyes wide with illy controlled fear. A fleeting thought told him that she knew something he did not. He tried to gather himself to say something, to reassure her he was alright, but the painful hacks continued until he was on his knees, his hand over his mouth. It felt as if he was scraping his throat raw, and burning pain accompanied each of the uncontrollable coughs. _

_Arya dropped next to him, her hair falling away from its updo and framing her face with a collection of wisps. He slowly realized the coughing wasn't going to stop. Hot liquid surged its way through his throat, and he realized it was most likely blood. Eragon was aware of Arya's attempts to get him to respond despite the fact he was starting to choke on the blood that filled his mouth. She was talking fast, panicked, and Eragon's struggles to understand the words spilling from her lips were in vain. _

_She wrenched his hand away from his mouth, and only then did he notice the hot blood spattered across his palm. A drop slipped, dropping against the ground, and the mottled obsidian spots seared across his vision, blacking out the vision of the panicked elven princess that shouted his name. _

Eragon's dream spun angrily around in his head as he awoke, his hands flying to his neck. No tickling cough or raw throat. Only halfway relieved, he pressed the feverish heels of his palms into his eyes, only stopping when the blinding white stars marred the black expanse of his vision. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Eragon lifted his head, blinking frenziedly in order to adjust to the light streaming through the window of he and Saphira's treetop hollow.

The moment he managed to see properly, he saw Saphira's sapphire eyes meeting his with a hard edge. _You're awake, Little One._ she said calmly, the gentle flow of her voice laced with concern. She had been awake for a long while.

Eragon realized this and forced out a breathy laugh before throwing his feet over the edge of his bed. He hid the fatigue that hung on his limbs like sodden mats, the dull ache in his bones flaring as he moved. He may not be able to hide everything from the sapphire dragon, but if meant that she would be left unplagued from his state of disarray, he would damn sure make an effort to look like he had everything together. He glanced at his hands as Saphira looked towards the door, and he was fearing that he would open his fists only to find blood_._

_Eragon_, came Saphira's sharp notification, and the dragon rider felt the oncoming presence of an unknown elf. He nodded and threw on one of his more worn tunics, ignoring the fact that he was too exhausted the night before the change out of his pants, which were still splattered with traces of mud.

He had just began to walk over to the door when the curt knock rang against the wood. Eragon answered to find a fair headed elven boy who looked as if he was in a hurry. He froze and looked at Eragon with wonder, and Eragon started to question if his hair had gotten messy while he slept or if he had a trail of drool tracing its way down his cheek, since he wasn't the most graceful sleeper when he was exhausted. The elven messenger started to relay his message, speaking faster than the dragon rider could process, and it took him a moment to filter what the boy had said and nod agreeably.

"Thank you, and what happens to be your name?" he sounded unintentionally rough from just waking up, and the elf froze before murmuring "Amras" and shifting uneasily. Eragon repeated the name, a smile gracing his lips, and he dismissed the boy politely, watching him return quickly from where he came before closing the door.

_What did they want? _Saphira asked gloomily, lifting her head from the spot between her front feet.

The brunette blew his bangs from his face, reminding himself to cut them shorter when he had the time, and started to relay the message to his companion. "Oromis is ready for today's training, and the arrival of the queen is fast approaching, they have gotten word they will arrive today." he shifted, looking at himself in the mirror while simultaneously listening to Saphira's response.

_Wherever the queen is, missions seem to follow._ Saphira growled and Eragon felt her keen distaste at the thought of pausing their training to go fight wave after wave of soldiers, and possibly Murtagh. Saphira snorted, and Eragon tore his eyes from the mirror to look at her. _You look fine, I can feel your self consciousness from over here_. she let out a humoured sound and Eragon felt the tips of his ears burn. "Very funny." he mumbled before walking back over to the door, the wood floor cold against his feet.

He grabbed her saddle, the lightweight leather cool against his hands, and he strapped it safely onto a cheerful Saphira. It was the same saddle Brom had made, and Eragon smiled thoughtfully to himself. Despite being the least fanciful, it deemed to be his favorite, and he had added many things to it since his father's passing. Lining the saddle with wool had been his first change, and adding an extra layer of thick cowhide to the straps followed, ensuring that the handmade gift would last for many years of wear. He left the leather on the seat untouched, for he preferred the closeness with Saphira while he was riding, and the thought of adding unneeded weight did not cross well with him, even if it was only a slight amount.

Eragon finished putting on the equipment and slipped on his boots before exiting the tree hollow, climbing several feet of the ladder before leaping to the ground and landing with outtake of breath. Saphira glided down from the top, her large feet hitting the mossy ground with a muffled thump. Eragon instinctively laid his hand across her flank, her scales warm under his hands. He blew out a breath before looking at her, "Ready to go?"

_As always._ came her reply, and the pair started on his way to the training field.

Oromis was waiting, looking pleased with his pupil's arrival. Glaedr stood close behind, dwarfing his rider by a large sum. Eragon noted the two elves standing on either side of Oromis, intimidatingly still. The dragon rider gave the traditional elven greeting, pressing two fingers to his lips in a sign of respect. Oromis nodded, and the battle began with the metallic sounds of swords being drawn. The three of them had dulled their swords in advance to avoid any serious injury, but a blow during these spars would ache for days afterwards, which meant Eragon was in for another painstaking battle.

Eragon kept his facial expressions in check, not giving away any future actions. The elves were stony faced as always, which was different from fighting with humans or dwarves, who usually shouted battle cries and insults during battle in an attempt to intimidate their enemies.

One of the elves, Círdan, flew at Eragon first, and the other, whose name he did not know, only stepped forward when he had supposed he was preoccupied. The dragon rider blocked each of their blows with an air of agility, and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding having to parry a blow to his right. Círdan backed off to give his companion more room, and Eragon continued to field off blow after blow, the clang of metal against metal making his eyes ring in protest.

Eragon made no offensive actions yet, only driving them back with a reasonable amount of force. Only when they were on the defensive side did he start to concentrate on his actions, and he found the elf to be slightly predictable in his habits. Eragon used this to his advantage, and started to make quick slashes at his sides, forcing him to live his chest open for flashes of time. He left these brief chances pass, for that method was predictable and even a amateur swordsman could fend them off.

Noting there would be no opening for attack if he continued, Eragon daringly took a step back, parrying off blows as he was driven the opposite direction, and he saw a flash of confusion slip past Círdan's face. Eragon ducked away from a slash at his side and landed a harsh blow on the elf's ribcage, and during the split second when the elf reacted, Eragon struck out with his forearm, shoving hard at his stomach. The nameless elf fell roughly, an exhale of breath escaping his lips as he hit the ground.

Sparing no time, Eragon slipped the tip of his sword up to under his opponent's chin and the elf admitted defeat.

Immediately Eragon spun around to see Círdan charging at him, and the brunette knew this opponent would be more of a challenge than the last. Saving his small victory for later, the two clashed blades with the elf again, this time their swords holding in limbo, trembling with the effort each opponent was forcing onto the other. Eragon planned his next move and sidestepped, pulling Brisingr away quickly before Círdan could overpower him.

Círdan lunged, ducking underneath arm height in order to slide his blade up Eragon's throat. Eragon panicked for a split second before plunging his sword into the ground before kicking violently, his heel landing masterfully in the hollow of Círdan's ribs. The elf was knocked backwards, his breath taken from him as he fell harshly. His slender sword was ripped from his hands during the fall, and it skittered across the hearth of the training arena. A long silent pause replaced the sound of clashing swords and even Oromis froze to watch the twist of events.

Círdan met Eragon's eyes as the brunette took advantage of the silence and grabbed the hilt of Brisingr, ripping it up from the ground fiercely, taking up clumps of hard dirt with it. Círdan glanced down before looking up again, blankly stating his defeat.

Eragon walked over, passing Círdan and bending down to pick up his opponent's blade from the dusty ground. The dragon rider turned around, watching Círdan uncertainly climb to his feet. The dragon rider chose to speak then, "This isn't over, I know for a fact that was much too easy." Eragon tossed the sword and watched the elf snatch the hilt from the air before settling back into position.

Círdan struck first, lunging forward with a newfound precision and missed catching Eragon in the side by a breadth of an inch. Noticing that the elf was trying harder, Eragon sped up his movements, the sound of metal colliding occurring more often as the battling duo spun around each other, both searching tirelessly for an opening in which to attack.

Eragon could tell Círdan was becoming bored with the circles they were drawing into the dirt as they sparred. He found himself to be correct when the elf ducked, quicker than a snake, and swung his leg out, swiftly tripping the brunette. Eragon fell, landing painfully. Círdan took the opening and swung downwards, his blade catching on Eragon's as he flung his up Brisingr in protection.

They hung there for a second, Eragon's arms screaming in protest as he tried to force the elf back. He knew he would not win the test of strength from his spot on the ground, and he forced Círdan's blade away with a final thrust before staggering back up to be struck again. Eragon deflected several blows, trying to gain his momentum back as his heels dug further into the dirt, holding his stance like stone.

Finally Eragon struck out, the intense ringing of his sword striking Círdan's hurting his ears. The dragon rider's limbs ached, and he struck out powerfully, several blows landing against Círdan sword, weakening his opponent's stance. Trying to end the fight with a desperate blow, he struck the elf's sword again, intending to knock it out of his hands. Eragon's luck faltered, and Círdan stumbled backwards, but his hands stayed glued to the hilt of his sword.

Ignoring his aching limbs, Eragon rushed forward, harnessing the time he had while the elf was disarmed. They clashed swords again and again, the fight becoming struggled between the two. Eragon found an opening, and with a slashing blow, Círdan's sword flew several feet, and by the time it hit the ground with a clatter, the former farmboy had ended the fight, his sword pressed against Círdan's throat.

Eragon drew his sword away, and Oromis spoke for the first time since the spar had begun. "I think we are done for today, Eragon. Very nice use of things besides you sword, that kick was very well aimed." the victorious rider nodded, slipping Brisingr into it's sheath. Saphira stood proudly, her neck craned to get a better look at her victorious rider. Oromis had a pleased look gracing his face and Eragon felt more accomplished than any time that he had beaten his opponents before.

"The queen and Arya will arrive shortly after sunfall, you may do what you please until then, Shadeslayer." Oromis spoke again as Círdan picked up his sword. Eragon nodded before bowing to his teacher and rising back up.

"I will be present at the welcoming party then, Oromis-ebrithil." Eragon promised, and the older rider dismissed him.

Saphira joined Eragon, matching his pace as he walked down the streets of Ellesmera. Eragon put his hand on his dragon's shoulder, the warm scales shifting under his hand as the two of them walked. While he was nervous about Arya's arrival and his odd dream, he was in a good mood. He rarely got to finish early, and it was usually a blessing, for if he trained all day, he usually went to bed exhausted, which over time can put a damper on one's mood.

Eragon stopped by he and Saphira's dwelling, sitting down in a clearing besides the looming, ever present trees. Saphira joined her rider, her tail splaying across the earth in front of him as she settled behind the brunette. Eragon leaned against the base of her neck, her warmth spreading through his body, eliminating the effects of the chilled autumn air.

"What would you like to do Saphira?" Eragon murmured out loud, and Saphira shifted, stretching her long neck around to lie her head in his lap. Eragon rested his hand on the crown of her head calmly. Saphira purred, the rumble resonating deeply through her throat. Eragon laughed, running his hand across her scales. "You seem content to just sit here" he said lightheartedly, letting his head fall backwards to rest against her withers.

_You could say that, we have not sat down and simply basked in the serene silence of Ellesmera since we arrived. _The sapphire dragon responded, her voice lazy and comfortable. Eragon hummed in response, stretching his legs in front of him.

The pair sat for a long while, Eragon dozing against her strong shoulders as she rested her large head in his lap. Eragon could faintly hear the sounds of people stopping to look at them, but he made no attempt to open his eyes and greet them. Eragon felt at peace, and he was more grateful for the time with Saphira than anything.

After an hour or so, Eragon noticed that a breeze had begun to drift throughout the trees, the leaves rustling quietly to accompany the sounds of the Elven community. The trees in Du Weldenvarden did not shed their leaves in the fall, to Eragon's dismay, and the forest stayed green throughout winter as well. The only signs of winter, besides snowfall and the chilly breeze, was the shortening of the days. The elves were not very wary on time unless it was a serious issue, but even despite that, they were always very continuous in their activities. He caught himself up in the wisps of his thoughts until he drifted off into a light sleep.

After a collection of time, Saphira lifted her head. Eragon's hand dropped into his lap as he looked up to meet her sapphire eyes. "Hmm?" he murmured, half dazed from just being ripped from his nap. Saphira grinned in a way only a dragon could, and Eragon chuckled, rubbing the pleasant sleep from his eyes.

_Fly with me Eragon. _she said excitedly, and Eragon obliged happily, pulling himself onto her back, thankful he had remembered to put on her saddle before he had left that morning.

_I would have bet my sword you were going to ask me that. _he laughed and she snorted, a puff of smoke drifting up from her nostrils.

_As if I am going to let a pleasant day like this pass and only have accomplished sitting around and dozing under the trees. _she said smartly and Eragon had to agree with her.

Saphira stiffened, preparing to leap into the air. She took off, unfolding her wings in a massive display of dazzling blue. She caught flight easily, and she shot above the trees in a matter of seconds. With each beat of her powerful wings, Saphira grew closer to the clouds.

Eragon felt overjoyed on her back and he laughed, the sound flying from his lungs and being stolen away by the wind. The blue dragon felt his ecstatic mood over their mind link, and she skimmed leisurely through the white expanse of a cloud. Rider and dragon dove through the skies, lifting higher than birds could reach.

Du Weldenvarden was only a green blanket beneath them, Ellesmera being hidden by the secretive safety of the trees. Saphira twisted, diving downwards. She grew closer to the trees by the second, and at one of the last moments, she unfurled her wings, she jolted upwards, her wings propelling them forward.

They drifted among the blue sky for a long while, Saphira taking pleasure in reshaping the clouds. Eragon shared her joy of the sky, and the scenery below was just as pleasant.

The sky was chilled with the autumn winds, and the sun fell with agonizing slowness, meeting the end of its climactic reign over the land. Eragon simply enjoyed the skies for a while, before Saphira started to descend, scraping circles in the sky over the Elven city. They landed in the same clearing they took off in, and Eragon was impressed by Saphira's ability to navigate the ground.

Sliding out of the saddle, Eragon landed on his feet gracefully. He humoured himself with the thought that if he was still fully human, he certainly would have stumbled and cast himself in the dirt trying to dismount Saphira like that.

_Fly up to the hollow and I'll unstrap your saddle. _Eragon offered, and Saphira sent a hummed agreement over the link before lurching herself into the air. Eragon watched her make her way up to their shared dwelling, and he followed up. Meeting up at the top, the brunette started on the process of taking off the special saddle. Undoing everything from their keepers, Eragon started on the left side, before ducking under her neck to migrate to the right. Once the straps were all freed from their ties and buckles, Eragon drug it off of her scaly back.

Saphira shook herself halfheartedly as Eragon put the saddle back on the rack where he kept it, and he looked out the window, noting the setting sun. "We are too leave in another hour or so."

_I need not any preparation for the arrival of the queen and Arya, so I am ready when you are. _she murmured, settling down on the floor.

Eragon hummed absentmindedly, changing into one of his finer tunics. It was of a deep green with a gold string lacing the cloth over his collarbone together. Saphira spoke up from her spot on the other side of the room, a pleased note to her voice. _That shirt is my favorite of yours, it brings out the brown in your eyes. The colours also fit nicely with the colour of your skin._

Eragon felt the heat spread over his face, the blush making him duck his head. Saphira snorted, humoured by his reaction. _Despite being quite attractive for human standards, elven as well, you certainly do not know it yourself. _The blush darkened, and Eragon busied himself with finding a suitable pair of leggings. Saphira's mirth leaked over the link in plentiful amounts as the tip of her tail flicked bemusedly.

After dressing appropriately for the queen's arrival, Eragon finished lacing his boots before slipping down the ladder once again. Saphira followed, mimicking the earlier of the day's events. She dropped besides the brunette, and the two followed along with the stream of elves heading to greet their queen.

And along with her, Arya.

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**Words: 3,635**


	2. Discussion

**This took way longer than I expected, but it is here. I'm still plotting out certain points in the fic, but hey. **

**I beta everything myself, so toss me a review if you can. That would be rad.**

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Eragon was to take a spot of honour among the elves, and he and Saphira separated, Saphira looming over the gathering of elves with Glaedr near the back of the greeting party. As always, the queen did not fail to arrive in standard elven fashion, the flowing grace of her appearance matching that of fairytale books. The white horses were decorated royally, the feathers of varying colours braided into their manes. Their riders were even more so decorated, and Islanzadí was no exception. She wore her iconic cloak of red and swan feathers, and Eragon saw the glint of golden chainmail underneath.

Arya rode behind her, her face monotonously serene as always. The elven ambassador was much more modest, wearing her usual ensemble of green and silver chainmail, and sat upon a chestnut mare who lacked a flowing mane and tail, which only furthered the vast difference between Arya and the rest of her people. Compared to the rest of her group, she and her horse were plain and Eragon had a feeling she preferred it that way.

Islanzadí spotted him, and she dismounted gracefully before giving her reins to a bystander who Eragon supposed was the her stable manager. The others dismounted as well, all giving their reins to respective horse handlers before joining the growing group behind the elven queen. Arya remained, and upon being asked if she wished to hand over her horse, she shook her head before saying something Eragon could not catch.

Islanzadí greeted him and Eragon bowed. The queen smiled, "There is no need for that, Eragon Shadeslayer." Her cloak swirled around her feet in a river of crimson as she turned around to face her daughter. "Arya, do you wish to join us or would you prefer to stay upon that plain beast of yours?" her voice was taut and Eragon saw a flash of irritation cross the said elven lady's face before she dismounted, and unlike her companions, stroked the mare's neck before leaving her untied. A groom reluctantly escorted the animal to the stables to join the others.

Eragon felt a small feeling of admiration for her connection with the animal, and he stood politely until she joined the group, taking a spot besides her mother. Eragon bowed to Arya as well and greeted her, to which she responded appropriately. After the formalities were finished, the queen started to speak.

"I can assume your training is going accordingly, Shadeslayer, you look well." Eragon nodded in response.

"I am learning more by the day, Queen Islanzadí."

The queen looked very pleased with this, and she moved away from him to speak with the rest of her people, leaving Eragon with Arya. The elf met his eyes for a moment and she spoke, her voice oddly, _different _from the monotone Arya he knew. "Much has changed Shur'tugal, including your skills. I must inform you that the Varden is-"

Islanzadí's voice rose above the crowd before Arya could finish, calling everyone for a ceremonial dinner and Eragon cursed her erratic existence. Arya stopped before turning, murmuring a quiet "I shall speak to you about matters later, Shadeslayer." before following her mother into Tialdari Hall, her posture one of a dignified leader.

Eragon stood for a moment before returning to Saphira's side. Saphira seemed to be in an ecstatic mood and she blew a plume of smoke from her nose, causing some of the nearby elves jump in surprise and let out a light hearted laugh, the trilling sound adding to the mood of the celebration.

Once everyone was gathered in the vast hall, the food started to flow out, dishes of fruit and vegetables along with several rice dishes being set upon the tables. Only two meat dishes were provided, which both happened to be a large bucks, which the elves had prepared with the utmost care for Saphira and Glaedr. The large doors to the hall were thrown open as well, so the two dragons could participate in the festivities.

The dinner passed pleasantly, Saphira downing a barrel of ale and listening to the conversation with a slight buzz. The elves chattered and Eragon ate quietly, listening rather than speaking. He spoke to a slightly tipsy Saphira for the longest course of the meal, the two exchanging thoughts as Eragon ate.

Arya dismissed herself early, and Eragon watched as she left for the stables, probably to check on the mare she had brought along from the Varden. Despite his weariness, Eragon smiled at her diligent care for the horse.

Another half hour passed, and the night deepened, leaving only a part of the crowd at the party. Eragon excused himself then, paying his respects to the newly returned queen before making his leave, Saphira accompanying him back to his dwelling a ways away from Tialdari Hall.

After untying his boots, Eragons collapsed into bed, not bothering to take off his shirt. "Goodnight Saphira." he called out, half muffled by the pillow.

_Goodnight Little One. _she responded quietly, and the night settled into a quiet mix of leaves and the soft, melodic flute tune that laced it's way through the brisk air.

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_Eragon was not present, only an onlooker on the events unfolding in front of him. The air was hot and dry, and the dragon rider concluded that it was very much summer. Tents lay scattered, and a few flags with the Varden's insignia marked the ground._

_Roran stood in front of Arya, his face twisted with grief. Eragon felt a rush of confusion, why was he not there? Roran obviously was stricken with anguish, what happened? Was it Katrina? Eragon felt a rush of fury at the thought of anyone harming his cousin's wife and his close friend, but even so the play of events tore his thoughts from the confines of his mind. _

_Arya continued to speak, visually distressed. Eragon's confusion worsened, what could have happened that forced the elven ambassador to the verge of tears, the rider did not know, and he hoped it would never happen. The conversation between the elf and the general came to a slow halt, Roran nodding at Arya before making his leave, his hand across his face to hide the tears that were falling. _

_Arya stood motionless for a moment, swaying along with the breeze that blew wisps of her dark hair away from her shoulders. Eragon saw her droop with exhaustion before she turned swiftly, disappearing in the crowd of forlorn looking soldiers. _

Eragon opened his eyes, trying to stop the shudder that ran through his body. While this nightmare was same as the last in the way that he could do alter nothing with his presence, this dream was silent in comparison, only having action and feeling. Eragon fought off another shake as he sat up.

Glancing over at Saphira, Eragon hoped she was asleep. The blue dragon was worried over his health already, both emotionally and physically, and Eragon hated the thought of adding any more stress to her than he already had.

His luck held, and his partner of mind stayed obliviously asleep. He touched her mind, and only found flitting thoughts and dreams. Relief coursed through him, and he got out of bed quietly, noting the sun just rising above the trees. He still had another hour before he usually woke up.

Throwing on a shirt and grabbing his boots, Eragon painstakingly tried to sneak past Saphira to the door. He had almost made it before he realized that he had forgotten his book, cursing himself, Eragon walked back, watching every step to avoid waking the large dragon. He grabbed the literature and made his way back without injury.

Boots in hand, Eragon surveyed the distance from the ground before making his way down, leaping halfway down the ladder, landing ungracefully on the mossy forest floor. Shaking himself to get rid of the tingling shock in his feet, Eragon plopped down and laced up his boots. They were a gift from the elves, and were made much different from human boots.

Instead of leather, they were made from deerskin and wrapped with sinew, allowing a wider range of motion without the restraint of tough leather. They were much taller as well, going almost to his knees, which was much more fitting with leggings.

After trying the sinew twine securely and grabbing the leatherbound novel from his lap, Eragon pushed himself to his feet, assessing the activity of the town. It was still early morning, the sun only beginning its ascent. Elves made their way from place to place, some of them talking with others while some simply traveled alone. Breathing in, Eragon relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he breathed out.

After a few moments of deciding what to do with the time he had, Eragon decided that a walk would be best, he was feeling high strung after his series of odd dreams, and the thought of the upcoming meeting only made him more nervous.

_'Yes, a walk would certainly be beneficial.' _Eragon thought to no-one but himself as he started along one of the worn trails through the grass and moss. He took one of the quieter trails into the forest, and Eragon was forever awed at the amount of wildlife that flourished in the forests of Du Weldenvarden.

After walking a ways away from the heart of Ellesmera, Eragon stopped, finding a solitary tree stump. A smile gracing his face, Eragon chose this spot to sit down before untying the twine keeping the book closed. The book was given to him by Jeod as a gift before his trip back to the elven capital, and the _Domia abr Wyrda_ and this book were of utmost importance to him.

It was bound in a dark leather sheath carved with runes, and upon inspection, Eragon had discovered it and the _Domia abr Wyrda_ were both charmed in order to keep the pages from tearing or aging. The book, going by the name of _Du Hljödhr Skulblaka _has been read and reread many times in Eragon's free time, and every time he opened the pages he thanked Brom for not letting him going on being an illiterate.

The story extended upon Du Fyrn Skulblaka with detail, and then moved on to focus on the first rider, Eragon, the book's name only came in slightly, with the first rider meeting the Silent Dragon and earning his blessing to start the dragon riders.

Eragon found himself to enjoy the book immensely, and it only furthered his pride to be named after the first Rider. He sat for a long while, blocking out the sounds of the forest as he concentrated on the scripts of the book. The words flowed easily, and the brunette found the time had flown by, and by the time he looked up, the sun was well up on it's arc through the sky. Eragon stood up and brushed himself off, preparing to leave for Tialdari Hall. He felt Saphira's mind touch his, her conscience cloudy with sleep.

_Eragon? _He felt her confusion and he stopped to reply, tapping his heel against the hearth to loosen the dirt on his boots. The chilled air bit at his cheeks, and he rolled his shoulders to rid themselves of the ache he acquired while leaning over a book.

_Good morning Saphira. _Eragon sounded unneededly cheerful and he felt a flicker of joy course through his companion before she spoke again.

_You sound as if you are in a pleasant mood. I am glad you had a nice morning. _She sounded pleased with his attitude and she spoke again. _I will meet you at Tialdari Hall? _She asked thoughtfully, and Eragon agreed, starting to make his way out of the forest. He noticed Saphira's looming form in the distance, her scales glittering as she flicked the tip of her tail back and forth like a cat. She got up at his arrival before shoving her face over to him, blinking owlishly. Eragon laughed at the display before placing his hands on either side of her large head.

"Good morning Saphira." Eragon repeated, only this time in person, and the dragon responded with a huff of grey smoke, the plume going right into Eragon's face. Eragon shook his head, clearing away the charcoal smoke. "Thank you for that."

_It was nothing. _Saphira replied nonchalantly, craning her neck over the flow of elves that were either headed to the meeting or completing morning duties. Eragon moved forward, taking a walking spot next to the sapphire dragon, and the two continued towards the royal building. The initial shock of their arrival had long past, but even then the two received looks during either sparring battles or simply walking around the elven city. Some were of slight admiration and some of critical judgment. Eragon paid no heed to them, he could feel the doubt that emanated from the elven society, and even despite the fact it made him feel inadequate, he understood that he was one of the only hopes to defeat the Empire and that they had every right to doubt his abilities.

This only made him more determined to bring peace to both their world and his own.

Shaking his head and squaring his shoulders, Eragon entered the hall. He met eyes with the queen, who looked more solemn than the day before, but still pleased with the play of events. She sat at the head of the table, the ornate throne facing the doorway and heading the long, stone table that stretched through the room. Arya sat on one of her sides, and other elves littered the seats. Most seats were filled by people of importance, and none were available, save the one next to Arya. Eragon felt a mix of dread and discomfort, he wished not to advance any farther than friendship with the female elf, and he preferred to keep a comfortable distance from her to keep her comfortable.

Islanzadí motioned towards the seat, and Eragon nodded curtly before sitting down, his hands settling in his lap. Arya was still in traveling clothing, her green and brown clothing hanging off of her limber frame. Her riding boots still snaked up her calves, and she looked ready to leave, both the meeting and Ellesmera as a whole. She kept up her monotonously calm appearance as always, but Eragon felt as if he could cut the tension between herself and her mother.

Eragon was the last to arrive, and with his presence, the meeting began. Islanzadí spoke little, leaving her advisories and warriors to speak amongst themselves. Rumours and certain pieces of news were debunked quickly, before being replaced with other pressing matters. Eragon remained silent, more so listening than speaking.

Arya spoke only once within this time, her voice taut. "The empire is preparing for something. We all have heard of and seen the troops marching to Gil'ead, but for what reason shall they enforce such a city so much?" Eragon got the flickering idea that she already had a possible answer for her question, but she did not add anything to her comment.

One of the lighthaired elves spoke up upon this, and Eragon identified him as one of the advisories to the queen. "We have not shown any intention of attacking Gil'ead so the prospect of this being a reinforcement for the future is not a wise assumption, Arya Dröttningu."

A flicker of irritation flashed beyond her gaze, and she she responded accordingly. "They were traveling in a circled formation, which may imply they were carrying something important. The amount of soldiers was unnatural, and they were all too well trained to be regular reinforcements." A collective questioning glance rushed through the elves, but the room remained silent in respect for the elven princess. Arya continued; "The object could not have been large, for there was no gap in the soldiers, but there had to have been something there for such a powerful group to be simply going to Gil'ead."

"Now what were they carrying that could be so vital to the Empire that they must protect with such a vast amount of resources?" piped up Eragon, and he felt the table's eyes on him as everyone agreed silently.

Oromis, who had seated himself a seat across from Eragon, spoke up, his deep voice displaying an air of authority. "Eldunarí."

Eragon felt a rush of shock, and he felt Saphira's interest pique over the link. Oromis continued, silencing and clearing up the confusion that had swept through the room. "Eldunarí are easy to transport, and it is known Galbatorix has a large number of them in his possession. He prefers to take certain ones at his side, while others are more or less pawns of his power over his charges."

One of the elven advisories spoke up, and Eragon shifted his weight to his left side, trying to comprehend the words and what danger they displayed towards the Varden. "Why would Galbatorix move the Eldunarí? What use would they be if only Dragon Riders and elves could access it's mental confines?"

"Murtagh." Eragon murmured and Oromis nodded at him.

Islanzadí put her hands up in a motion for silence, and the table ceased it's conversation. "Oromis, what should be our actions in retaliation?"

The golden Rider moved his hands to brace against the table, straightening his back as he stood up. "We must not rush and simply send a fleet to capture the group, that it much too obvious for Galbatorix's tastes. He will send one of his strongest adversaries in order to protect the group. Murtagh is a candidate for blatant reasons. We cannot afford to lose many more warriors, and we are not strong enough to defeat a dragon rider by ourselves, especially one with Galbatorix on his side. I dreaded the day we would have to resort to this, and as much as I dislike the thought of it-" Oromis paused, no-one in the room moving as they waited for him to continue.

"We must send out a Rider that is equally skilled, if not better than Murtagh, and I can say Eragon is very much a fair match for the red Rider."

* * *

**600 diggity dang words less than last time. What a shame. I wanted to end it on a certain note, so I couldn't really make up the words I lacked. I'll be back within the month if school cooperates with my lame butt. **


	3. Author's Note: Sorry for Lateness!

I'm still here! The next chapter should be around within the next week or so! School has been a bust, and work is draining, since the horse I'm working with is a big draft horse who doesn't understand personal space.

Thank you for being patient with me friends!


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